


Five Finger Fillet

by ilovecharles



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Conflict, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 13:29:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19063651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovecharles/pseuds/ilovecharles
Summary: Female reader has been pining for Javier for quite some time, only when she does get the opportunity to act upon these feelings do things go unexpectedly.





	1. Five Finger Fillet I

A comfortable silence fills the campgrounds at Clemens Point, everyone keeping busy with either chores or planning their next stage robbery. Your own hands working feverishly at a bloodied shirt in the soapy basin at your bent knees; your nostrils flaring in muted disgust at the running red pigment laying claim to Arthur’s shirt collar – yet another shootout was your guess. It was rare that the camp ever had the opportunity to slow itself down so when the silence was cut short by an enthused Uncle jumping from his horse and practically hopping through camp, you let out a small groan to Mary-Beth besides you whom had perched herself against the provisions wagon with her face practically pressed into her sappy romance novel. Your reaction to Uncle’s arrival elicited a small, stifled giggle from her soft hidden features.

“Dutch! A ranch nearby…drunken farmhand…heard of cattle unguarded at night. I got the information from a man at the saloon in Rhodes, said there’s about thirty or forty cows out back!” Uncle, wheezing between sentences, shouted out to Dutch as he made his way to the cheap wooden table laying in the centre of camp where Ditch sat idly reading his new favourite Evelyn Miller novel.

“Then get off your backside Uncle and check it out, bring the cattle to our friends Clay and Clive at Clemens Cove, take either Javier or ___ with you.” He chimed whilst still whisking through the words in front of him. Javier was the first to react at the sound of his name - his attention lifting from the map of a homestead to the north of Rhodes, someplace called ‘Lonnie’s Shack’, to the conversation before him. 

“Dutch, come on. I’m not going rustling with Uncle, he’ll get me killed, hermano!” He groaned rolling up the map of Lemoyne and placing it on a crate nearby. You quickly dried your damp hands against the bedroll beneath you and rose to your feet; you definitely didn’t want to go with Uncle either, he was useless or almost always too intoxicated to actually help. You and Javier both made your way to the table where Dutch lay back unamused. 

“I’ve got too much to do here, Dutch.” You replied, countering Javier’s complaint.

“Uncle can’t go alone, he can barely dress himself, so decide who’s going with him or I will.” Dutch spoke up whilst closing the book and making his way to his tent, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just bring back money’ and whipping at the . Your eyes met Javier’s, almost waiting for him to be the gentleman and offer to go.

“I’m planning for a homestead, I can’t go, chica.” He explained, his tone almost pleading for you to take pity.

“Your planning can wait, Javier. I’ve got to wash blood out of the men’s shir-” 

“Why don’t you make it exciting and decide with a game of ‘five finger fillet’?” Uncle interrupted whilst twiddling the tip of his knife against the pad of his index finger. Once he let the words lose from his mouth, he looked up at you both knowing he’d started something. He brought the blade down to wedge into the grainy wood of the table and proceeded his escape to his usual spot at the foot of a shaded oak tree - hat tilted over his face and an open bottle of spirits at his lap.

You hated to give him credit, but the idea was actually a very exciting one, both you and Javier were more than competent when it came to the game. You relied more on precision when it came to winning tactics, whereas Javier’s skilled lied in his stamina. Almost reading your mind Javier sat himself down at the table, dislodging the knife and offering the handle to you with a roguish grin plastered at the corners of his mouth.

“Let’s not waste any time since we’ve both obviously got so much to do. One round, thirty-seconds each. Whad’ya say?” He chimed, you countered his question with the same grin and took the blade from his grip, joining him on the chair adjacent and proceeding to lay your palm flat against the cold wooden surface, the blade pressing down to meet the wood some inches from your thumb.

“Time starts with your first jab.” Javier retorted from across the table, arms crossed, and eyes fixated on your hand.

The first jab of the knife landed perfectly in the space between your thumb and index finger – each jab between your digits landing gracefully quick while the seconds counted down. Your mind chose to zone out Javier’s burning gaze and instead focused itself on the task at hand. The blade made its way through each of your fingers again, ever so slightly meeting with a small etch of skin on your ring finger but not hard enough to draw blood or raise Javier’s attention. The sun beamed down, and its rays caught against sharp metal spike that continually disappeared against the splintering surface between your fingers. Your grip on the knifes handle was strong and rigid, expertly raising and dropping the blade down, never faltering. 

“…4, 3, 2, 1. Seven laps, not bad at all, chica.” 

His round was even quicker, the blade stabbing down precisely between his fingers and his eyes purposefully fixated and engrossed into yours. Even when the table began to creak, and its thin legs began to stumble after every harsh collision of the blade he still made a point of never breaking away his gaze. You knew this was his intimidation tactic but, honestly, you weren’t intimidated at all. His eyes were beautiful, even when they were practically covered by the thick rim of his hat. In those few seconds that your gazes fixed upon each other you took the opportunity to really admire his chiselled features, particularly the sharp shapely facial hair that lay against his skin or even the thick, dark strands of hair showering around his face that broke from the ponytail behind his neck.

“…4, 3, 2, 1. Guess you better saddle you and Uncle up, Javier.” His round finished falling just short of your seven-lap score. He jabbed the knife into the wood and let out a defeated sigh. 

“Uncle, will you go and saddle up Boaz and while I get changed?” Javier’s question wasn’t met with an answer, not even the typical Uncle groan that we’d all become accustomed to whenever Uncle was asked to complete a chore. The usual spot Uncle slept at all day under the oak tree was vacant, until a stumbling and slurring Uncle emerged from behind one of the wagons, a new whisky bottle in hand.

“I ast’ that gal to give me some…ring dang d-” Uncle collapsed to the floor at your feet mid-song and immediately began loudly snoring whilst clutching at his whisky like he wanted to buy it dinner and take it to bed.

Your first thought was the inevitability of doing this job with Javier alone, and this realisation gave you immediate butterflies. Although you hadn’t been on many jobs before this, you were glad this one would be with Javier. He’d always been the nicest to you, and you had held a large soft-spot for him since day one, otherwise you wouldn’t have assisted Hosea in teaching him English.

“I’ll go and saddle up.” You groaned, stepping over Uncle and making your way to the hitching posts whilst trying to conceal the little smile that threatened to spill from your lips from Javier’s eyeline. Oh God, why did this man make you so blush and nervous? It’s pathetic.


	2. Five Finger Fillet II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cattle herding is on, but will it go as planned?

The dusky sun set against the Lemoyne foothills, an atmosphere of silence following with the ringing of chirping crickets from the brush surrounding you. Javier rests against the large rock formation behind you both, his wide-brimmed hat over his eyes and his back pressed against the cold stony surface, a slight snore and an adorable little whistle escaping his parted plump lips. While you wished you could stay and watch him sleep peacefully beside you amidst his dreams, you knew that if there was ever a perfect time to begin the cattle rustling, it was now. The absence of sunlight would work in your favour: you and Javier would collect the cattle and bring home some money to provide for camp for the next few days. Plus, Uncle needed this tip to work out – it’s not like he did anything else for camp.

You tapped gently on his shoulder. “Javier, we need to make a move.” He responded by jolting slightly at your demand and groggily lifting himself to his leather studded feet. 

“Okay, what have we got here?” He asks himself quietly, rubbing at his tired eyes and lifting his rusted metal binoculars to them whilst sussing out the homestead before him: a man asleep on the porch with a semi-automatic shotgun perched on the ground beneath his parted knees – arms crossed as the flimsy wooden chair below him creaking under his weight. Lights from inside the house signalled that he was not alone, likely that there were people inside but he was the trusted guard for the night. The plan was to be as quiet as possible, find a way to break the lock to the barnyard without alerting the sleeping guard, and also his resting comrades inside. This would be a difficult task as the metal padlock wrapped tightly around the field’s gates; the only thing that would sufficiently break it would be a swift bullet to its chest. No, too loud – there needn’t be any bloodshed.

Javier placed the binoculars pack in his leather satchel, signalling you to follow him towards the gates whilst crouching to avoid detection and the unnecessary back and forth of bullets. You followed Javier’s stealthy steps along the fences path towards the padlock, the heavy fabric of your dress crunching against the dry blades of grass below you. The guards hoarse and arrogant snores invading the silence of the night, a trail of saliva falling on his shoulder from the corner of his mouth. You groaned whilst rolling your eyes. “Men.” You whispered under your breath; Javier chuckled lowly at your comment whilst inspecting the security of the lock, huffing at the challenge at hand.

“Here, use this.” You added, slipping the pin from behind your head. The loss of the pin from your hair let lose a cascade of your locks to your shoulders and around your face. The soft strands blew softly against the cold southern air. The man before you caught a breath in his throat, his eyes fixed on the curls that framed your soft face as they shone against the subtle moonlight above. Your hair was always pinned up, mainly due to chores back at camp, but also because you liked to be more conservative in your appearance around men; it’s how you were raised. Your own eyes fixed with his in a stare that brought heat to the air around you and a blush creeping quickly up your neck to your cheeks. Your eyes searched his, hoping to find some type of admiration for you like you held for him. The moment was broken with a particularly loud snore resonating from the porch, you both rushed your eyes to the homestead, seeing the guard was fast asleep amidst the shifty cattle robbery at hand. You both let out a sigh of relief and Javier drove his attention back to the padlock, picking at it with your slim, crooked hairpin. The lock snapped open after a few seconds of fiddling with a muted click and you both brought yourselves to your feet. You pressed your palm to handle of the gate and Javier’s did the same, his hand closing on top of yours, and your eyes met again. This time the air around you became unbearable suffocating and you began to feel your face inch towards his, your lips only inches apart from finding each other where you wanted to most.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for the longest time, amorcito.” He added quietly under his breath, the comment made your heart flutter in your chest and relief at his returning affection swam through your clouded mind.

Once again, your moment was interrupted. This time by the sudden click of a trigger followed by the piercing shout of a rifle barrel. The bullet flew through the air and met the skin of Javier’s knuckles, blood immediately began erupting in small spurts at the flesh wound. The bullet landed between the horns of a Florida cracker cow behind you, it planted itself through the cow’s skull and the animal gave a squeal of pain before crashing to hardened dirt at its feet. Javier pulled his hand from yours and clutched at his knuckles. 

“What tha’ hell are ya’ doin’!” The guard roared whilst casting out the spent shells to the floor, he jerked the body of the shotgun back into place and fired it again in your direction, once it again it missed your person and landed in the torso of a cow behind you. “We got a problem out here!”

“Maldito!” He cursed. “Get the cattle, ___!” You responded by whistling for your horses and reaching for the gun at your hip, you and Javier both crouched behind a nearby discarded wagon that was loaded with hay. You peaked the barrel of your pistol from the side and fired at the guard shooting from the porch, and then at the men that erupted from the house with their own side-arms at the ready. The bullets met the necks and faces of the men, some landing in the wood that panelled the house. The remaining shootist’s in the shack shot at your feet and the air around you, and you thanked God for the lack of precision in your opponent’s aim. 

Boaz and your mere came to a clumsy halt next to the wagon, they reared and wailed uncalmly at the harsh extraction of the bullets, one of which landed inches away from your horses’ skull in another cow behind you. Javier mounted Boaz, rushing to bring the blanket at his saddle to clutch around the womb of his knuckles, his free hand brought his pistol to meet the men on the porch square between the eyes. The precision of his shots caught you by surprise, your desire for this man was just about bordering on pathetic. 

Many of the cattle had died in the altercation, only about fifteen of the previous thirty to forty still stood – and they were in bad shape, covered in the blood of the cattle that didn’t make it and running aimlessly in distress around their fenced-up field. The remaining cows would still bring money back to camp though, so you hoarded them to Clemens Cove anyway, bartering with the strange twins there for the highest price you could achieve. 

“Sweet Jesus, did ya’ send em’ to war?” Clay chimed whilst inspecting the distressed leathery skin of the cows. His eyes then caught with Javier’s, and a familiar grin formed at the corner of the man’s face. “You’re the Cuban lovin’ fella’ that came by a few weeks back with your buddies.” 

Javier’s jaw clenched at this, having been repeatedly a victim of racial aggression, he took it personally even if it wasn’t aimed at himself. “Why you gotta’ be such an asshole, amigo?” You held Javier back from the smug twins. There had already been enough violence for one night. 

On the trail back to camp Javier and yourself had heard the whistles of Rhodes lawmen in your absence, likely having had reports of a shootout and robbery on a nearby homestead. The decision was made to camp between the trees for the night, this way you could rest until sunrise and avoid detection from lawmen on your way back to camp. Two tents were placed between the trees with a crackling fire between them. You had gathered some of the meat quickly from the murdered cows at the shack and wrapped them tight with cloth in your satchel. This meat now rested on the end of your knife at the foot of the fire, it cooked slowly above the flames that met the end of the blade. Javier came to sit beside you, a cloth he had dipped in alcohol was dabbed gently against the bleeding and irritable flesh of his knuckles. His face would grimace at each contact of the material on his skin, sometimes a quiet Spanish curse would follow escaping from his wincing lips.

Your heart melted seeing him in pain and you reacted before you could think, placing the knife on a dish to your side and attempted to reach for the alcohol-soaked cloth in your reach. “Here, eat this. Relax.” His features softened and then, as if coming to a sudden realisation, he drew back his hand from you, his eyes darkened and he became almost unrecognisable. Lifting himself to his feet and turning to you once again, his anger masked underneath the shadowy brim of his hat and a new solemn expression across his features.

“I can do it myself.” He muttered, the muscles under his denim coat flexed with frustration. 

Your heart dropped at his sudden change in demeanour, why was he doing this? It was only a bloody graze, not like it’s your fault. You felt bitter at his new tone, almost betrayed. “I was just trying to help.” You countered, picking at the meat on your knife.

“You’re the reason we got in this mess!” He shouted, looking down at you. “If you hadn’t tried to kiss me, we would’ve got more than fuckin’ $30!” He added, his words laced with spite and malediction. Did he seriously just say that? As if regretting his words, he placed his hat at his heart.

“Don’t play a fool, Javier! You even said you wanted to kiss me…” You shouted, lifting to your feet and meeting him face to face, the knife still clutched in your grip. “…And I know you meant it.” Now you could really see his features, his jaw was clenched, blood still slightly seeping from the wound at his knuckles. His eyes were dark and insecure. His gaze searched yours apologetically and his mouth opened slightly: as if he had something he really wanted to say to you. Only, he didn’t.

The conversation was ended by a simple “I’m sorry” muttered from under Javier’s breath, almost as if saying it to himself. He turned at his heel and crouched at the entrance of his tent and stepping in, letting the flap fall behind him. 

What the hell just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my tumblr @i-love-charles!


	3. Five Finger Fillet III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After coming to blows about the shootout and your unexpected moment of intimacy - how will you both overcome the inevitable?

You awoke bright and early, amber beams of the sun slipping past the flapping entrance of your tent. Stepping out of the small confines you notice the campfire has puts itself out sometime in the night, leaving only the ashy logs and the smell of old burnt firewood behind in its absence. Javier was still presumably asleep in his own tent respectively, a quiet hum leaving its walls every few minutes coupled by the rustling of his body against his thin sleeping bag. The events of the night before were still swilling around in your sleepy head, but despite the gunshots and the argument, all you could think about was his raspy confession. 

“I've wanted to kiss you for the longest time, amorcito.” It was like honey to your ears, the sweetest lullaby you’d ever heard. A single violin in a choir of obnoxious tenor drums and cymbals. You had to admit, you’d thought about his voice coated in lust as you lay in your tent with your hands gripping at the constraints of your underclothes, quiet whispers of his name slipping past your lips as he lay only a few feet away in his own tent – but this only added to your excitement. 

You spend the mornings last moments alone by lighting a fire and warming up a tin of bland kidney beans above its flames. Quickly you are interrupted by the man emerging from the tent flaps, his hair a tussled mess and freshly wounded knuckles wrapped inside a makeshift cotton bandage – his broad chest and muscular thighs were still coated under his clothes from the night before, small spatters of stranger's blood included. The atmosphere was nothing short of awkward and uncomfortable, you could cut the tension with a blunt butter knife. He made his way to the saddle draped tightly over Boaz, searching aimlessly through the satchel. You assumed he was searching for some food, knowing full well your horse had each of your provisions stored, and he was probably feeling too guilty for his cutting words the night before to ask for some. You weren’t letting him get his way that easily, he owed you an apology, at least. Finally, he gave in, and pressed his back against a nearby tree in defeat. 

“I'm real sorry for the way I acted yesterday, ___” His eyes looked guiltily down at the dirt beneath his heavy boots, sifting his heel through the grainy roots and twigs that lay below. “...and for blaming you.” His words left an ache in your chest, the slight shake of his voice only adding to the purity in the confession that spilled from his soft lips. You tried to interrupt by lifting yourself to your feet and meeting him at the willows winding base, seeing Javier in emotional despair made you feel like a monster, but he lifted his palm up calmly to signal for you to listen. “Por favor, just listen. I’ve had feelings for you for a very long time, I think what I said yesterday only proved that even more, amorcito...but I've seen what happens to love in our lifestyle.” His words left you speechless, unable to do anything but listen to his heartfelt disclosure. “Annabelle: dead, Molly: heartbroken, Abigail and John – I left my home because of a woman, mi amor. I'm a hot-head, everyone knows that, wouldn’t be in this mess if I wasn’t – but I was taught better than to raise by voice at a woman that mirrors my affection.” Javier's sorrowful brown eyes came up to meet your own which were presumably mirroring you shear confusion and unmistakable passion for this man. He let out a steady breath before continuing. “If I act on how I feel about you then I'm scared we might just fall victim to our life choices...” By now his usually stern and harsh expression was pure vulnerability and love “...but I'll never forgive myself if I don't at least try.” He slight smile lifted at the corners of his lips, and before long they were hungrily pressed against your own. 

The kiss became feverish in the wake of his passionate confession of his love for you. The air was still uncomfortably thick, as it had been before, but no knife could cut the passion and lust that surrounded you both under the whimsical leaves of the tree towering above. His fingers ran hurriedly across your delicate dress, meeting at the lace that held your thick corset together – his fingers worked to unravel the flimsy strands like guitar strings, unravelling them methodically and expertly. Before long your heavy needy breasts were set loose in the absence of your corset and the simple cotton shirt underneath, the bitter yet humid air from Lemoyne’s breeze washing against your sensitive nipples: they stood to attention immediately. Javier broke away from the meeting of your lips and took a step back, his eyes fixed on your exposed chest in admiration at the sight before him, a quiet and constrained ‘mierda’ slipped from his pouting lips. His reaction to your bare breasts caused a ripple of goosebumps to form on your skin and immediately a pool of heat and dampness began to form rapidly in your clothed and constrained centre. A thumb came up to graze agonisingly slow against one of your nipples, and you let out a raspy moan in response that echoed throughout the woods around you. 

His expert tongue gave a few more agonisingly beautiful licks and kisses at your sensitive nipples before he began to tear impatiently at the long skirt around your waist. In a swift tug at the button that embellished its waistband the skirt, along with your white cottoned bloomers, fell in a distressed pool at your ankles.

The button had flung off at the force of Javier's pull and low lay discarded among the rustling leaves decorating the forests ground; but you were both too desperate to care. Your body bare in front of you man's watchful gaze, apart from a pair of light-weight leather boots strapped to your ankles. You couldn’t break his gaze, feeling distantly intimidated and vulnerable as you stood practically naked in front of a fully clothed Javier. The thought brought your hands almost desperately to Javier’s denim waistcoat so you wouldn’t feel so alone, he rejected your advances with a silent shake of his head before sighing a simple ‘Let me look at you, bella.’ His words were laced with thick eroticism and your knees shook with anticipation at his thoughts, what was he thinking? Did he like what he saw, maybe he was just being polite. I mean, Javier was a lady's man, he’d probably seen figures better than yours ten times ov- 

Your fanatical thoughts were interrupted by Javier's sudden attack against your lips, hungry and wanting with desire. He backed you up against the tree stump, the harsh prickles from the bark against your skin were the least of your concerns, though. One of his rough hands came up to clasp behind your neck, pulling you closer, the other rest only inches away from your swollen pussy. The delicate pads of his fingers came to a halt up against the smooth and soaked skin of your sensitive lips, stroking against them methodically in slow paths; each time the tips of his fingers would travel furthest north they would brush up agonisingly slow against your clit – every touch would elicit a breathless and desperate moan against where your lips met. 

“Javier...oh, god...” You moaned into the kiss. 

His scholarly assault against your pussy had a familiar ball of pleasure building in your core, and with the reactions he was gaining from you, he knew it too. You clasped around his wrist to signal for him to slow down, but the result was quite the opposite. His tongue began to move feverishly against your own, two of his fingers mirroring the assault by darting at a delicious pace inside the tight hole that begged for his attention whilst his thumb continued to work in circles at your tiny sensitive clit. The intensity between your legs set the pleasure building ablaze and to stifle your cries amongst your orgasm you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, sucking and licking at the tanned skin that pressed against your lips. In the midst of your climax you struggled to keep yourself propped up, but with the help of the thick tree behind you and one arm around Javier's neck, you managed. The orgasm that this man tore from you had your mind foggy with lust; this was so much better than the dirty dreams you’d had about him. His talented fingers emitted a crude noise from your soaked and sensitive pussy; this would usually have you practically melting with embarrassment, but in the comedown of possibly the best orgasm of your life; you didn’t give a damn – not even when he slowly pulled his fingers out and you noticed them completely coated in your arousal – or when he’d lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked away slowly at your taste. 

His eyes fluttered closed and a whisper escaped his mouth in the absence of his fingers. “You taste so fucking g-” 

“Escuella!” An irritated, and familiar, shout sounded from the path hidden by the trees, thankfully the tree trunk behind you hid both your naked body and your presence. “Greaser! Where the fuck have ya’- there ya’ are!” You heard a horse's hoofs come to a skidding halt in the dirt a few meters from you, accompanied by the thud of boots meeting the ground. Javier’s face dropped with annoyance at the interruption, you stayed hidden behind the tree, hoping your unexpected visitor wouldn’t come any closer and become aware of the situation he’s walked into. 

“What’ya want, Bill?” Javier sighed, his waist down was covered by the shrubbery that guarded the tree, only his chest and face visible from Bill’s direction. Still in the afterglow of your previous orgasm, you sank down to your knees, now face to face with Javier's covered, still hard, cock.

You just couldn’t resist. A hand daringly came up to work at the buttons of his trousers, slowly and delicately working to release Javier from his confines whilst still remaining anonymous to Bill. His breath hitched in his throat at your actions, a simple choke of air leaving his throat when your soft feminine hands came up to rest around the base of his thick cock. It was even more impressive than you’d imagined, you knew he’d be thick, but you didn’t think he’d be hung like a horse as well. The sight had your pussy greedy again. You made an effort towards keeping the movements soft and tantalising, not wanting to break your cover. Your other hand came up to massage gently at the balls that hung down before you, even licking and sucking at the skin there every so often. When you felt he’d been teased enough you took him fully in your mouth, pushing him to the back of your throat and stifling back a slight gag while your tongue dragged along the veins that painted a beautiful purple pattern among the underside. Poor Javier tried his very best to remain casual in his demeanour with Bill. 

“I don’t want nothin’. Ya’ didn’t get back last night.” Bill paused for a second in confusion. “Were you talkin’ to that fuckin’ tree, Escuella?” 

“I w-was takin’ a p-piss, idiota.” You tried your very best not to muffle a giggle against his cock. Poor Bill – he had no idea. 

“Look, just get back to camp, Dutch sent me looking for you and ___.” Bill responded nonchalantly. “Where even is ____?” 

“A-” A particularly tactful nudge of his cock at the back of your throat caught his attention and his voice began to shake and stutter slightly in response to the pleasure. “Asleep.” 

Bill’s eyes wandered down to the ground surrounding the fire, his gaze landed upon the familiar fabric of your skirt along with a pair of women's bloomers that’d been discarded in a careless pile upon the forest’s foliage. A heavy chuckle vibrated out from his chest and he knowingly turned at his heels, he mounted Brown Jack and nudged at the horse's side to signal for him to ride away. 

“Sure she is!” Bill shouted back; his voice still shaky from the chuckle he was clearly trying to suppress. 

Javier watched tensely as the cowboy rode away through the trees, and soon his gaze tore back to stare down at you upon your knees for him – his eyes were swimming with lust and frenzied with need. The need to get off, to see you, to fuck you – it didn’t matter – and now that Bill was out of the way, you took the opportunity to show your appreciation in full swing. 

Your soft hands worked tactfully at his balls, along with the base of his cock and the length you couldn’t fit into your mouth; you’d gotten used to the gagging, and the ache in your jaw was the least of your concern. You could feel his twitching against your lips, he was definitely close, and you just wanted to taste him, to see him come undone completely for you, your eyes only. His breaths became hitched at the vibrations of your moans against his length, his own moans getting trapped in his lungs. 

“Por favor, bebé. Por favor.” His hand rest against the back of your head, keeping you gently in place with your lips surrounding him. His other arm with its elbow perched against the tree and his palm bunched into a fist, he bit down at his bandaged knuckles, clearly too turned on to notice the pain, and under his breath he spoke sentences in his native tongue, most you could not understand, but they sounded a lot like pleas in the throes of pleasure. One sentence he uttered that you definitely could understand was “I’m cumming” but by that point his was already spilling down your throat, the spurts of his warm cum that did make their way to your taste buds were warm and salty, but still somehow tasted delicious. His legs became uneasy and you watched mesmerised at the man you’d been fawning over completely losing himself in bliss because of you - a chain of curses, many in Spanish, left his mouth, accompanied by his honey-covered callings of your name. 

You kept your mouth at a steady rhythm whilst he rode out the comedown of his orgasm, small droplets of his warm cum still leaking out into your mouth. You brought your eyes to stare up and meet his, which were closed as his face scrunched slightly in the afterglow, a thin sheen of sweat that shone against the morning sun coated his exposed skin – he looked godly. 

He left your mouth with a satisfying pop and you licked a final stripe across the tip of his cock, catching any remaining cum on your tongue: wasting any would surely be a crime. The man before you joined you at the base of the tree upon the dry green grass, he spare hand reached across you to grab one of your discarded items; and picking up your long skirt he places it over your exposed breasts and torso, the simple yet adoring gesture sending a flutter through your exhausted body. 

Before settling down with him against the tree you lifted yourself slowly to your shaking feet and made your way daintily to the fire while Javier tucked himself back into his trousers and wiped away at his brow - the can of kidney beans still slowly boiling on the impromptu grill above the flames. You picked up the can with the end of your skirt, avoiding the scolding metal, and peeled back the tin’s cover. 

You both rest with your backs against the base of the tree, his arm slung across your shoulders and your head rest between the crook of his neck. Sharing the kidney beans between you both, bland as ever, but not even they can ruin the bliss – you'll just eat Pearson’s stew when you return. You both knew that your presence was needed back at camp, but you neither of you wanted this moment to end. The confessions, the intimacy, everything just felt too good to be true – like you’d wake up any minute back in camp with a pile of laundry for your chores. No words were said because none needed to be, you both knew exactly what the other was thinking: relief, adoration, exhaustion, satisfaction...love? 

Definitely love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my tumblr @i-love-charles!

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my tumblr @i-love-charles!


End file.
